


Liberated

by DaniJayNel



Series: 100 YumiKuri Stories [99]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, F/F, Gore, Nudity, Werewolves, mentions of arousal, people dying, yumikuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7693018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Historia is attacked and bitten by a werewolf. When she realizes what she has become, she is bent on finding the one who did it, and killing them. When she finds them, she realizes that they have many things in common, and that she has been liberated, and not cursed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liberated

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote the first half of this a long, long time ago. Back when my gran was still alive, actually. I remember having an argument with her, and I was so, so angry that I wanted to write something violent to vent. I had also recently read Cursed by David Wellington, and it's the best werewolf novel I've ever read. The werewolves there are not to be messed with. Anyway, so I decided, months later, to finally finish this. Yay to 99 YumiKuri storie! One more to go and I will have actually reached my goal. Amazing.

“Shut the fuck up,” Historia growled, lips pulled over her teeth in a vicious snarl. She inhaled deeply, breathed in the scents from the humans around her. She tasted their blood at the back of her throat, wanted to lap at it, suck it all down.

A man to her right laughed, stood up from his perch on the mouldy table in the centre of the cabin and then clapped his hands once. “Little doggy has bite,” he mocked. The other men, two of them, watched intently.

“Stupid bitch,” one of them, a bald man, said with wicked glee.

Historia felt herself tremble with need, felt the claws inside tearing at her bones, rattling the space in her head. Her eyes pounded, and she had to inhale shakily to rid herself of the sudden intense bloodlust. It would not leave, she knew. The moon was almost out, and her blood sang with the impending lunar dance. Not more than a few minutes remained, and then the chains around her, bounding her to the cabin’s wall and ceiling, would do nothing to hold her giant form back. Her skin was bleeding, searing and burning from the kiss of silver, but she could barely feel it all. All she could feel was their blood, _blood, blood, blood._ She wanted it on her teeth, under her nails. The chains hurt her yet she had no doubt she would break free from them. By breaking the silver, or breaking herself.

All at once Historia snapped back to herself and realized that she had been snarling like a rabid beast. And maybe she was one, this close to the open moon. But her humanity remained with her, reminded her that she was once a good, innocent person. That she had once sat around a dinner table, had once giggled and joked, had once been able to smile at people without needing to battle the urge to sink her sharp fangs into their throats.

“As I was saying,” the first man continued. He was large for a human, with scruffy brown hair. The others had called him Simon. “We didn’t expect to find a baby werewolf like you,” he said. “We actually came here to hunt another pest. Think you’ve run into her? She probably smells as bad as you.”

Historia felt sick to her stomach. Seconds ticked by, taunting her. _Tick, tick, tick._ The moon was so close. She could feel it. The blood rushed in her veins, sloshed in and out of her heart. She could hear theirs, as well. Could hear the air rushing to and from their lungs. She could feel their heat. And still, the scent of their blood was overpowering. She wasn’t a vampire. It wasn’t the metallic taste of blood that she craved. It was the pungent flavour of death that blood gave, when it spilled over in waves, consuming her, soothing her. She couldn’t keep these thoughts out of her mind. As much as she despised them, as much as her human half screamed and rattled at the cage, her werewolf snarled and huffed, scratched at the back of her head, breathed heavy at her neck. And Historia found that she simply could not resist the call of her wolf. This was what she had become. What she had been cursed to live as.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Historia told them. Her teeth gnashed together but she kept herself calm, spoke with measure. For this moment, just for now, before her clothes ripped to pieces and her body broke and fixed itself, she would be civilized. A very small part of Historia still wept at the loss of her humanity, at the ease with which she snarled and cursed.

“Yes you do,” Simon said, grinning broadly. He pulled a small gun from its holster, twirled it around his finger and Historia thought that he must have been an idiot. “That’s silver we got wrapped around that pretty body of yours,” he said. “You ain’t getting out of here when that moon comes out.”

“Oh?” Historia said. Her lips curled back and she could not stop them. She caught the growl in her throat, and held it there, squashed it down and ignored the way her inner wolf howled in defiance. Howled, whimpered, _screamed._

“I have silver bullets in this thing,” Simon emphasized. “Nac here made them himself.” He gestured to the human male to his side, the one that had been quietly watching beside the bald one. “They’re pretty damn accurate. I found a lone wolf dying by the nearby cliff. Put the poor bastard out of its misery.”

Historia stilled. She went absolutely quiet. Stopped her hassling, calmed her breaths and let the chains hug her down. Her throat felt swollen, and worse so when she tried to swallow.

 _Oh no, Eren,_ she thought. Her heart beat hard, and she hoped with all her might that Eren hadn’t been hunted and executed. She hadn’t known him long, but he had found her when she was dying, had shown her how to survive as the thing she had become. She wasn’t done learning. There was still so much to learn, so much that she had to do. Most importantly she needed to find the monster that had cursed her, the one that had attacked her, changed her. Historia’s blood sang again, her heart pounding to an invisible rhythm. The moon was so close that she could taste it, could feel it lapping at her skin, warming her, illuminating her.

“I’m going to change,” Historia told them. It was not a warning. “And after I do, I will chew myself out of these chains, and then I will rip your limbs off and watch you squirm.” _No, no don’t say such horrible things! This isn’t you, this isn’t the kind of person you are!_ Her human side cried, wept and pleaded.

 _But this is who you are now. You’re a monster. A killer. You ate that man whole. Remember? The fragile little human, with his fragile smaller humans. He was weak. He couldn’t save himself. You crushed his skull and ripped out his spine._ The werewolf chortled, stamped down hard on her human self and she whimpered out loud.

“Listen to her,” Simon exclaimed. He waved the gun around, playfully pointed it at Historia’s forehead. Baldy finally seemed interested enough to move away from the doorway where he had been standing, and he snatched the gun from Simon’s hand.

“Stop swinging that around like a fucking moron. This thing is right. Once the freak changes, she might really eat her limbs off to get to us.”

“And then what, roll towards us?” Simon argued.

“He’s right,” Nac said. “We should head out now. Her howling should attract the other wolf. Once it’s near, we get them both.”

Simon rolled his eyes, but stepped down and shrugged. He grabbed his gun back, holstered it and then walked over to where Historia knelt helplessly against the hard wooden floor. “It’s a shame,” he said, leering. “You’re such a cutie. What a waste.”

Historia felt it instantly. Simon reached out and stroked her cheek, and the rest of her humanity quietly closed the door and went to sleep. The wolf burst out, panting and hungry for the human male’s blood. She didn’t change instantly. Sometimes she did. Sometimes she would blink and everything around her had changed. No, this time it would happen slowly. This time her rage kept her in tight control, which barely ever happened. She was only barely a few days old and yet she could already decide which parts of her ripped apart first. She let her eyes change, knew that they would cloud over to black before changing to red, and that Simon would startle. He did, and he noticed when her spine began to break and bend.

“Shit, let’s get out of here man,” Baldy urged. Historia hadn’t even learned his name yet.

Simon still rested a finger against her cheek, but moved it down to underneath her jaw, tipped her head back to look into her eyes. “Enjoy,” he said.

Historia used her building strength and Simon’s foolish proximity to pull her head back and then smash it into his. She had no idea how she had managed to move that quickly while chained, but the head-butt connected and Simon stumbled back, howling with pain. He removed his gun and pointed it, but Historia merely flashed her changing teeth. They were slowly replacing the old ones, the blunt ones. Long, sharp canines and fangs, spread out on her jaw. She started to struggle then, pulling crazily at the chains even as she hissed at the pain. She could already smell the burning of her skin, but Simon was there, the human was so close.

They left quickly. As soon as the cabin door shut behind them and they locked the silver chain they had placed there, Historia felt her body explode. Heat washed over her, through her and inside of her. It didn’t hurt. Even as the sound of her own bones breaking filled her ears, Historia was filled with ecstasy. Nothing could compare to the rush of the change. It was even more powerful than an orgasm. So Historia howled in content, changed and slashed at the wooden ground. Her fingers turned to claws, sliced into the floor.

When her human body completely fell away and her muscles bulged and grew, Historia caught the humans’ scent, much stronger now. She could hear their vehicle still close by, but leaving quickly. Her blood pumped and she bucked wildly at her bindings. By sheer will and strength and managed to pull the chains out of the surface they were drilled to, and then huffed and kicked at the ground in triumph. She sniffed at the ground, tried to walk but paused when the chains still pulled her down. She snarled at them and then wrapped her teeth around the ones at her front ankle. Nothing had hurt more than when her tongue touched that silver, and even as blood filled her mouth, she hurried on and chewed through the material. It took time, pain and effort, but she managed it. Working through the others was much the same. She howled and cried all the while, infuriated at the humans for putting her in the chains. Angry at the silver for burning her flesh. She would scar from them for a few days. Only many changes after that would the marks finally fade.

Historia was finally free. The humans were gone by then, but their scent was heavy. Historia smashed through the front of the house with her huge body and quickly followed their trail. She paused only once or twice to sniff at the ground. Once she paused to lick at her wounds, to whine quietly to herself until she smelled the humans again, felt the need to kill again. So she ran, she followed the trail and howled into the night. After much time of running and howling, something else howled back.

Historia screeched to a halt, nails digging deeply into the soil as she did. Wind rustled her fur and her ears flicked back and forth. She lifted her head, inhaled the air to see if she could smell the other wolf—but she couldn’t.

She waited, panting heavily and excited. The only other wolf she had ever run with was Eren. He hadn’t introduced her to his pack yet, because he had wanted to train her a little more first. _Eren is dead,_ her animal brain told her. Historia shook her head and whined long and loud. She became enraged again and viciously bit into her own arm, let the blood fill her mouth and cloud her mind. After she spat the blood out, let it dribble down her chin, she lifted her head high and howled loudly into the night. It took not a beat before the other wolf responded. The call sounded curious, amused. Historia was enraged while this other wolf wanted to know why. It made her angrier. When she howled again, she made sure to let the wolf know. The answering call came back slower than the previous one, more cautious. It sounded just as angry, almost like a warning. And it was close.

Historia was torn. Find the fellow wolf or tear the humans to pieces? Wind blasted her in the face, and the smell of the humans washed over her again. That made the decision for her. She forgot about the curious wolf almost immediately and shot down the path again. Tire tracks ran underneath her pounding paws, but she followed her nose as well. Her eyesight was not as great as her sense of smell. And if the humans had set an ambush for her, had weapons or traps, she would smell it.

And so she did.

Not too far from where they had left her, the humans had a camp surrounded by silver spikes, as if that alone would protect them. Historia smelt the silver immediately, so she stopped not too far and stalked, watching and waiting. They were doing the same, but they could not see her or hear her, they couldn't smell her. She was so close and they had no idea.

Historia dared to step as close as possible, and then crouched low beside a thick bush. The flicker of their orange camp fire only reached far as her claws, but even then, they didn't know she was there.

The humans started speaking, making irritating noises that grated at the base of Historia’s skull. She could no longer understand such a thing as speech, but she did manage to grasp one simple thing; fear. One of them was frightened, making his scent bitter and distasteful. The other two were exhausted and impatient, but otherwise pleased of themselves. When they spoke again, the frightened one's scent deepened and Historia knew that something was about to happen.

In the distance, the other wolf began to howl. The humans responded almost violently, shooting to their feet and grabbing for their weapons. The fire flickered and almost went out. Historia wished that it had, only to have the pleasure of sneaking up on them before ripping them to pieces.

One of the men, the dominant one, spouted more sounds with his throat, and then they were all scrambling into his car. The other wolf howled again, this time closer, and Historia sensed that they were calling out to her, wondering why she hadn't followed their call earlier. Historia licked her lips and teeth, then tipped her head back to howl. The sound was ear-splitting, so much so that the frightened human made an odd sound and fell from the car. The others made more sounds at him, but he had turned and looked right at Historia.

She had inched closer, allowing the fire to light up her scarlet eyes. They were reflected in the human's gaze, but Historia had not the sense to sit and analyse them. She shot forward, snarling and claws ripping the ground. The human was not quick enough and Historia had his shoulder between her jaws. She then shook her head, hard, and heard the satisfying sound of bones snapping. Then he began to scream.

A loud boom resonated in the air, piercing Historia’s side and making her howl in pain. She accidentally ripped the man's torso apart, so she dropped him from her teeth and turned towards the others. When she approached, the car jumped into motion and sped off down a worn path. Historia was more than fast enough to keep up.

She veered off into the trees, careful to avoid their line of sight because more explosions cracked the ground at her feet, and she knew it was silver bullets. They couldn’t see her at all among the trees, and their shots fired off in the wrong direction, exploding the bark of trees to her far right.

Somewhere close by the other wolf ran alongside them, their heavy paws pounding loudly against the dry dirt and leaves. Each clawed footfall echoed in Historia’s ears, but so long as the other wolf didn’t interfere, she would leave them be. She could catch a slight hint of their scent, but it wasn’t enough to distract her just yet.

Historia caught up to the fleeing cage of metal just as the clean scent of the ocean hit her nose. She lifted her head the slightest to take in a heady lungful, and then she pushed her legs harder until she was beside the humans. One drove the machine while the other leaned outside of one window, aiming his weapon at her. Historia snapped at him, frustrated when the vehicle swerved and she missed the man’s arm by a second. She snarled, drool dripping from her lips, and then slammed into the car. It lurched to the side, nearly tipping over due to the force of her attack. Historia’s wolf form was huge in comparison, but it hadn’t been quite enough to stop the machine. The men were shouting again, their shrill voices enraging Historia even more.

A loud boom rang in her hears, and she just managed to dodge a collection of silver bullets. The weapon the man held now was different, but it seemed to be too strong for him. It knocked him off balance and he slid farther out of the window. Historia took that as her chance and dove forward. She snagged the fabric of his pants with her teeth and then with one giant tug, pulled him out. The car continue to ride, not stopping even as the human dropped to the ground at Historia’s feet. She closed her teeth around his throat and lifted him, tongue lapping up the collecting blood from the puncture wounds. He screamed and writhed, but he did not die quite yet. His human hands clawed at Historia’s face, but she hardly felt his digging nails.

Her eyes watched the car disappearing in the horizon, spurring her to continue running. The human bobbed in her mouth, gurgling and screaming. She almost caught up again, but something rushed out of the trees and slammed into her, knocking the human from her grip. Historia snarled in reflex and clawed at the ground to regain her balance, and then she went absolutely still when two large, golden eyes glared fiercely at her. It was the wolf from before. Their scent twirled around Historia, filling her nose and burning her. She whimpered but did not shy away. The wolf had the human in their jaws, and just like that, they turned and darted back into the trees.

Historia howled into the sky and took off to follow. There was no way she would let this stranger enjoy her kill. It was _her_ effort, _her_ prize. Their scent was dominating and filled with fury, but Historia had her own anger to contend with. In any other situation she might have submitted in an instant. She would have dropped down and exposed her belly, her tail swishing slightly and her pink tongue swiping across her lips in nervousness.

The other wolf was larger than her, stronger and leaner. Their muscles looked built from years of exertion, and they leapt through the forest like they had done so often enough to do it blind. Historia had trouble dodging the odd tree here and there. Her superior eyesight and sense of smell let her know when an obstacle was near, but her anger and narrowed concentration on the other wolf made it difficult for her to properly navigate. But finally she caught up, panting and growling, and found that they had stopped by the roadside. Beyond was a clearing, and beyond that, the ocean.

The wolf turned and dropped the human to the ground. They licked their bloody lips, hackles risen, and then they faced Historia head on. That gaze, like burning gold, ripped right through her. Historia wasn’t sure what this wolf wanted from her. Those eyes studied her, waited for her to make the first move. Historia didn’t. She stood still and stiff, and then a soft click filled the air.

It happened quickly, but it happened because Historia had been terribly distracted.

A single silver bullet shot through the air and pierced her chest. She could acutely feel as the bullet slightly grazed the side of her heart, before it exploded from her back. At least, she would muse, it had been a clean enough shot. The human’s arm dropped as Historia’s blood sprayed across the ground.

Nothing had ever hurt so much. Not having been shot, but the silver touching the surface of her heart. The organ all but set on fire, and blood spilled from Historia’s mouth. She tipped over and collapsed, aware that the other wolf had killed the human and hovered above her, jaws open, drool and blood dripping down onto her fur. Those eyes told her to sleep, to close her eyes and slip away. Strangely, Historia felt compelled to trust that gaze. So she did. Whimpering like a pup, Historia shut her eyes and coughed the remaining stream of blood from her mouth.

A warm tongue swept across her muzzle, and then Historia’s consciousness slipped away with the remaining darkness.

The sun had risen.

XxX

Historia woke where she had fallen. It could have been hours since then, or days. Her mouth was dry, and it tasted foul, like sour blood. She licked her lips and swallowed, and scrunched her nose up in distaste. Most of what had happened when she had changed was gone from her memory, but she knew on an instinctual level that she had killed someone. Maybe even more than one person. She also had the distinct feeling that she wasn’t alone. But the dirt road was empty, besides a large pool of her own blood and the dead man that lay crumbled off to the side. His corpse reeked. Historia tried to crawl onto her feet, to get away from the body, from what would have been her undug grave. Her legs wobbled beneath her, but eventually took her weight as she stood. Before Historia could take a step, a sharp pain shot out from her chest, ending right at her heart. She cried out and pressed a hand to the spot.

There was a scar.

Historia couldn’t recall what had happened. Her only guess was silver. Either someone had spiked her, or she had taken a silver bullet. Since she was still alive, it hadn’t been a deadly blow. But it had been dangerous enough that changing back into a human hadn’t mended the wound. Part of Historia knew that she should have been killed by the attack. So why was she still breathing, even though every draw of breath brought her a great measure of pain?

The sounds of gentle crashing waves lifted Historia’s gaze. The sun was still shallow enough that the air was chilly, and the birds had just started waking to chirp happily between the trees. She noticed heavy footprints of a wolf heading down to the beach, so she let her curiosity tug her that way. Halfway there the footsteps morphed into two human feet, and then Historia found the beach and collapsed onto her knees into the warming sand.

A figure stood still in the water, staring out of the water with their back to Historia. A strong, heavy pang hit Historia’s chest, joining the already throbbing pain at her heart. She released a soft whimper, and then the person turned.

Molten golden eyes glinted in the sunlight, studying her naked and dirty form. Historia didn’t cover herself at all. She had long since abandoned her human embarrassment with nudity. This stranger—a woman—seemed no different. She was just as naked, but she was clean. Most likely she had bathed in the water. It reached just below her lower back, so Historia got an interesting view of the stranger’s expansive back, the muscular shoulders that led up to a strong neck. Her skin was brown, darkened now thanks to the shadows at her back. Somehow, Historia noticed her freckles.

The woman turned slowly and padded out of the water. Even though her breasts were on display, she didn’t cover them. Historia’s eyes travelled the length of her—from dark nipples, to the dip of her navel and the harsh abdomen muscles that framed them. When she broke free of the water and stepped into the sand, Historia realized how long her legs were. She paused just in front of Historia’s kneeling form, and then they locked gazes.

Historia saw the reflection of her own glowing blue eyes in the woman’s. The air around them thickened, making Historia tense every muscle in her body. She may have been turned into an unstoppable killing machine when humans were concerned, but she wasn’t certain how effective she was against another werewolf.

This woman definitely was one. Heat rolled off of her in waves, and the heady scent that surrounded her made Historia’s belly warm and tighten. She resisted the urge to sniff the air, to take more of that sweet scent in.

Slowly the woman lifted her arm, palm out, offering a hand. Historia narrowed her eyes slightly, an eyebrow lifted. She stared at the hand, at the smooth planes of her palm, up to her bony wrist and muscled biceps. With arms like that, this woman could so easily pick her up and toss her into space. The thought was a little amusing, but Historia couldn’t find enough humanity within herself to actually laugh.

“You aren’t dead,” the woman stated.

Historia sucked in a breath. A memory, deeply imbedded in her, burst to the forefront of her mind. She suddenly remembered the entire evening, and the night before that, many days ago, when she had been running for her life and had still been attacked by a wolf. Those eye, that voice, the scent… This was the wolf that had cursed her.

“Why?” Historia choked out. Her voice was hoarse, and even speaking sent sparks of pain through her. She winced and pressed both hands against the aching spot at her chest.

“My name is Ymir,” the woman continued instead. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Historia swallowed. “Why me?”

Ymir drew her arm back. She glanced back over to the water, to the horizon and the vast emptiness there. She sighed heavily, shoulders drooping. “I don’t know.”

Fury wrapped tightly around Historia’s tiny frame. “You turned me into a monster, and you _don’t know?_ ” It came out as a snarl, and it satisfied Historia’s ringing ears.

Ymir turned back to her. The gold in her eyes swirled around, revealing deep colours of brown and red. “I should go.” She turned to leave, Historia watching her from where she knelt. Panic settled in, and Historia quickly got to her feet to follow. When she was close enough, she grabbed Ymir by the wrist, spun her around and then slammed her into the nearest tree—she was still learning to control her inhuman strength.

“No, you don’t get to leave. I promised that when I found you, I would kill you. For doing this to me. For taking away my humanity.”

Ymir’s expression went blank. “Go ahead then,” she said. “I’m defenceless.”

Ymir was anything but. She had a strong, muscled frame, and from the look in her eyes, she had years and years of experience. Historia felt her claws extend on her right hand. She pressed her fingers together and then aimed for Ymir’s heart, ready to strike forward and rip it out. But Ymir’s stare faltered her. As much as Ymir tried to appear uncaring, Historia saw deep sadness and loneliness there. She withdrew.

“You’re all alone, aren’t you?”

Ymir took in a short breath. “No I am not.”

“Is that why you bit me? Why you changed me?”

Ymir grabbed her suddenly, lifting Historia from the ground. They spun around and then Historia was slammed into the tree. In reflex she wrapped her legs around Ymir’s waist, and then she gulped. Ymir’s lips pulled back over long, sharp teeth. Her expression melted into pure fury.

“Shut up,” she snarled.

Historia grinned. “I got it right, didn’t I?”

“I said shut up.”

Heat brushed against Historia’s skin. Where her naked body touched Ymir’s, it almost burnt. Ymir’s body was almost as hard as stone, but Historia could feel her thrumming heartbeat. If she cocked her head, she could hear it. Ymir’s heart was racing.

Something wild and primal rose within Historia. She pulled her wrists free, and then lost her hands in Ymir’s surprisingly soft hair. Ymir’s hands dropped down to her hips, gripping her tightly, spreading more of her heat. Historia knew she would start sweating soon.

“Take me,” she demanded in a whisper. “Make me yours.” She leaned forward and took Ymir’s lips between her own. The anger blended into desire. Her fury was still there, but it only deepened the sexual arousal she suddenly felt. Something about Ymir… simply turned her on. Ymir didn’t return the kiss at first. Her body froze, and then she slowly relaxed and responded. Historia groaned when Ymir’s tongue swiped against her own, and then they parted, panting and hot.

“You hated your life,” Ymir uttered in a whisper. “I could smell it. You wanted to die. Why else did you come to this mountain on your own? I thought it would be such a waste, so I… I decided to help you.”

Historia’s chest felt hot. The pain was still there, throbbing in time with each heartbeat. Everything suddenly made sense. All the memories that had been muddled up from before cleared up in her mind, and she realized that Ymir was right.

“I came here to jump off a cliff, I think,” she started. “But then I was attacked.”

“I won’t apologize for what I did.”

“Can I stay with you?”

Ymir pulled back and her lips pulled into a large, scary grin. “Now why would you want to do that? To kill me? To have me?”

Historia wasn’t so sure. Her lips still tingled badly from the kiss, and she was already very wet. She knew that her wetness had smeared against Ymir’s lower tummy. They could both feel it. Ymir’s nostrils flared ever so slightly, and the scent of her arousal met Historia’s own.

Historia took in a breath. “I…” Ymir’s thumb traced small circles along Historia’s hip. “I could learn from you. I still don’t know much about the change.”

Ymir’s smile seemed genuine. In that little moment, it was the most beautiful thing Historia had ever seen. She was reminded of her thoughts from moments ago, from when she had first seen Ymir in the water.

_I think I love her._

It was absurd, since they didn’t know each other. And maybe it was only because Ymir had bitten her, or that Ymir looked just as lonely as had always felt in her human life. Here was someone that had given her the will to stand up, to straighten her shoulders and to take her own life back.

Historia suddenly felt hugely emotional. Tears filled her eyes, but she did not let them fall. Ymir moved a little closer, until their foreheads were pressed together, their chests heaving in sync.

“Deal,” she said. “I’ll help you accept who you are.”

Historia wrapped her arms around her, brought them even closer together. The unbearable heat turned into the most comfortable warmth. She ran her fingertips along the dips of Ymir’s spine. “Do you hate yourself, too?”

Ymir moved to bury her face against Historia’s shoulder. “Sometimes. I’m a monster.”

Historia tightened her embrace and placed a kiss against Ymir’s shoulder. “That’s okay, so am I.”

Ymir chuckled. “What’s your name?”

“Historia.”

“Historia,” Ymir echoed, as if tasting the name on her tongue. She shifted slightly, abandoning Historia’s hip to trace patterns on her stomach. “Would it disturb you if I said that I want you? That I did the moment I saw you before I bit you? That I turned you into this, selfishly, to have you by my side?”

A wind rushed through the trees, rustling leaves and cooling their overheated skin. “No,” she answered confidently. “It wouldn’t.”

Ymir lifted her face. She grinned. “Good.”

They kissed again. Historia melted against her. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing, but she knew that Ymir was where she belonged. She had gone from being a frightened new wolf, to feeling like there was hope. With Ymir, she would learn. With Ymir, she would live.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
